Does the Mad Pace Get To You as Well?

Have you ever had one of those conversations with yourself that go like this:?

Centered Self: “You’ve never been one that gains energy from multitasking. Be gentle.”

Berater Self: “I am a Lazy. Butt. Just saw SusieQ. I know for a fact she already worked forty hours this week. She handled the Veteran’s day popcorn distribution for the whole school on her day off. She looked like a million bucks, and the more I get to know her, it’s true. She is sincerely nice. Not lazy.”

Gentle Self: “People really enjoy your smile because it comes out of your eyes more than your crooked tooth smile. Not every face can pull that off.”

Angry Self: “I hate traffic. I hate vegetables. I hate luke warm coffee. I hate dirty dishes. I hate kitchen sink scum. I hate mohawks. I hate mullets. I hate Talbots. I hate Dillard’s. I hate malls. I hate shopping. I hate shoppers. I hate people who smile. I hate people who smile while they shop. I hate mall shoppers who smile on the way into Talbots. I hate Talbot loving mall shoppers who smile because they think their sink scum is better than mine.

Wait…think their scum is less than mine is the correct syntax perhaps. I don’t care. I hate them!” 

Prayerful self: “Stop it! Listen!

hear that?

It was your muscle popping loose. Nope. Sit still a little longer. Rewind the song. Nope. Reheat the coffee in a bit.

Listen.

Rewind the song (Alexi Murdoch, “Song For You”).

You’re so tired, you don’t sleep at night
As your heart is trying to mend
You keep it quiet but you think you might
disappear before the end

And its strange that you cannot find
Any strength to even try
To find a voice to speak your mind…

Feeling Better Self: “Oh the strings in that song. So beautiful. I’m not so alone after all. 

Earth Wind and Fire Throw Back!

I Forgot that I jacked up my playlist. Nice!”

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On Grandpa Telling me to Get to Work

Well now.

That was unexpected.

Despite my efforts to plot out today’s first few hours by way of learning the magic of Google Calendar, this photo and post was not what I had in mind.

Have I mentioned how excited I am to be working on a plan to get paid to write?

For many reasons, I am actually smart to be feeling afraid. (self patting shoulder)

But, fear and creativity is a whole list of other blog postings. Maybe a book, definitely some articles.

Anyhoo, before I pushed them out the door, both my husband and teen were teasing me with some shock at my perky approach to the day.

“Look guys! I’m dressed, ready for work.” (Self mumble: “Get along little doggies.”)

Newspaper comes in, back pack gets found, lost and refound, explanation of what a turnabout dance is gets explained, puppy eats Nerf bullet, argument about if we are having puffy coat weather or fleece ensues, garbage day is remembered, waffles devoured…

how am I doing with painting you into this picture?

Other distractions as I looked forward having quiet and computer access to finish several posts for this week included:

  • opening the poetry magnets I got for Christmas and searching out metal to play on
  • cracking open the two books that I’ve wanted for a long while that came in the same package
  • noticing that I can’t see
  • making notes to find a few more local doc’s
  • taking out said garbage to curb

and..sweetness of sweetness, meeting my neighbor’s new mini dachshund puppy named Daisy.

The unexpected? When things are well, I have a prayer routine that I stick to which is to listen to a twenty-minute music playlist that I’ve made fairly randomly. These short playlists turn out to be what I need to hear, every day, for at least a couple of months.

Yesterday I was so wound up that I had to replay some of the songs a few times because I was up and down from the chair, stretching, sorting dog toys, and web searching interesting medical definitions.

All of which is fine, but today I managed to sit still, cuddle puppy Paul, and replace my computer screen image from Gonzo the Muppet to, randomly, the photo above.

That’s my grandpa Overmyer. He was a writer by profession, and among hobbies he wrote limericks for friends and family.

I’m not sure how old I am in that photo…very new born to be sure. Don’t I look so warm and curious?

The unexpected part? I’d not listened closely to this new song I’d been enjoying. No need to because the melody was nice for cold winter days and the first words are

“Let my love light, shine on…”

something, something.

Guess what? It’s a song about a dad, (or Uncle, or grandpa, or…) who is on the moon with pride on the way to the hospital to see a newborn.

At least that’s what I heard.

Ouch!

Now I’m hearing my grandfather encouraging me to get to work.

Yes sir!

(P.S. Here is a link to the lyrics of I was listening to by Tony Lucca, click on what is highlighted blue , if you want, and have a good day. )

(P.P.S. And, a random link that came up in the search box, but don’t dare buck the ‘ole German work ethic much further: http://www.nbc.com/parenthood/music/ )

(P.P.P.S.) I tested the link to the lyrics and it is some other song. So. Much. Cool. Stuff.